


Four Days In Paradise

by TOCAD



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, NHL Lockout, Pittsburgh Penguins, SKA Saint Petersburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TOCAD/pseuds/TOCAD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris spends the end of the lockout getting to know... Russia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Days In Paradise

The first thing Kris notices is his smile. Fedor - Fyodor, as it's pronounced - smiles and shakes his hand, welcoming him to the team. Kris wasn't sure if he knew English, but he soon finds out the thirty-one year old not only speaks English, but likes to talk. He tells Kris about Sainkt Petersburg, offers to show him around and then Kris is being taken off somewhere and he doesn't have the urge to say no. 

It's an interesting experience. Russia is an amazing place, but so, so different from Canada or the States. Kris finds himself staring off frequently, just so he can take everything in. He hopes he won't be here for long, so he wants to really experience it. He probably shouldn't have mentioned that to Fedor when he was caught staring off, because Fedor grins his grin that looks just like his brother, but different.

"What?" Kris asks.

"I help you experience Russia," Fedor offers. Kris thought he had already been doing that, but he shrugs. Why not? 

"How?" Kris asks, "What are we going to do?"

Fedor's smile is still there and it's almost warming, how welcoming it is to have his blue eyes gazing at him while he's smiling. Kris isn't sure if Fedor's just  _that_  nice, or if maybe he's trying to send signals. Of course, he's aware that he's in Russia and while back home strides have been made to accept gay or even bisexual athletes (or even people, for that matter), Russia has done nothing in the way of even acknowledging it. Besides, Fedor's six years older than him, he would probably do better. He'll take Fedor's kindness as it is. After all, Fedor knows what it's like to be a stranger in a new place - even if he had his brother.

"Two kinds of Russia experience, outside and inside," Fedor explains, "Outside is clubs, sights, fancy things, nature - that we do already, but if you want  _real_  Russia experience, you need personal Russian touch." Fedor's expression was more serious, but still happy as he moves closer to Kris and swings his arm around Kris' shoulders. It's kind of funny how big the size difference is. He's about the same height as Malkin, but he seems so much bigger. He's definitely heavier, Kris notes as Fedor leans into him a couple times as he pulls out his phone.

Kris is patient while Fedor talks on his phone, in Russian. Kris knows his voice sounds different when he speaks French than English, but the way the Russian just rolls off Fedor's tongue is almost hypnotizing. 

Fedor laughs when he hangs up, as if he knew what Kris was thinking. "Come on, let's go," he says. Kris doesn't bother to ask where, just follows Fedor's lead. He gets into Fedor's car and Fedor laughs when Kris does his seatbelt up. "Cute," he says, as if that answers Kris' look. "Not going far," he adds, pulling out of the driveway. 

Kris looks out the window, onto the cold streets. It really was a beautiful city. Fedor parks a couple minutes later - apparently serious about not going far - and smiles at Kris again. "My home," Fedor says as they get out of the car. It's a two-storey nice looking house with big windows and a deck, but at the same time, it's very humble. "You like it?" Fedor asks as he starts walking towards the door. 

"It's nice," Kris nods. 

"Sergei always wants big places, but it's too much work. I actually wanted to just get an apartment, like I had in Magnitogorsk, but Sergei didn't want me living in a bad place," Fedor explains. He talks a lot about his brother, Kris has realized. It's kind of nice that he takes care of him. 

"I like it," Kris offers. "Not too flashy, but it gives you options."

"That is what I said!" Fedor smiles. He takes Kris on a tour of his house and he was right - Kris would've never had the same experience of a Russian house if he had just gone around hotels and stuff. 

"I can cook for you tonight?" Fedor asks. Kris laughs, suddenly feeling like he's a guest of honour or something. "It will be real Russian food. But good, I know how to cook!"

"Last time a Russian told me that, I ended up with burnt perogies," Kris plays. Fedor laughs and rolls his eyes, "I'm not Evgeni," he teases. "Come, watch me. If you don't like, we can go get food."

"That's fair," Kris agrees. He walks to the kitchen and sits at the counter as Fedor begins to cook. Kris tries not to stare, but he's there to watch, so he allows himself to take a glance or two at Fedor's body. He's big, tall, and solidly built.

Kris bites his lip as he thinks about what he would look like without the t-shirt. Maybe without the pants. In shorts, of course. Strong legs, quads... glutes.

"Earth to Kris," Fedor laughs, snapping Kris from his thoughts. "You want like soup or stew?"

"Whichever is good," Kris answers stupidly. Fedor just smiles and brushes his hair back. Once again, Kris catches himself staring at Fedor's arm, watching the muscles flex.

"You don't have to watch," Fedor says, "If you want, I have tv or something."

"No, I'm okay. It's cool seeing someone cook."

Fedor raises an eyebrow, but continues throwing stuff in a pot. They make conversation with Fedor explaining what he's doing and Kris doesn't really care, but he doesn't want Fedor to stop talking.

Kris can't believe how infatuated he's become. It's not like he's never had a crush, but it’s been a while and he's not sure it was ever this bad. But Fedor is charming, friendly, and very good looking. He's not even sure this is a crush, though. Or maybe that's exactly what it is - he can't remember if you want to have flings with crushes or marry them. Not that he wouldn't marry Fedor, he just doesn't know him well enough to say. He definitely wants to sleep with him, though. Hopefully it won't be a problem.

Thankfully, dinner is ready soon after that thought and Fedor places a bowl in front of him and tells him to taste it. Kris is kind of worried to let him down, because it's not the most attractive thing he's seen - and the glob of sour cream isn't exactly helping much, either. But it's good. Really good, even.

Fedor can tell Kris approves and just watches him for a few seconds before dishing his own. "When I was growing up, my mama told me you can win anyone's heart with a bowl of borscht," Fedor says as he sits beside Kris. The comment seems a little strange to Kris, at first. But then, Fedor's sitting very close. Kris ignores that in favour of eating the soup (because, really - it's  _that_  good).

"Oh my god, Fedor! That was amazing," Kris comments, once he's done. He's fuller than full, but he couldn't stop himself from eating. He'll have to avoid telling this to Geno once they're back in Pittsburgh or he'll be too fat for hockey. 

"Glad you like," Fedor smiles. Kris was about to ask him something, when Fedor stands up and takes their dishes to the sink. Without a second thought, Kris is at the sink as well, ready to help cleaning. Fedor chuckles when Kris takes the dish from him and rinses it. He does it a couple more times and then they're done with the dishes. Fedor hands Kris a towel to dry his hands and  they're both silently drying their hands until Fedor cracks another smile. "Was she right?" he asks. 

Kris blanks, because he doesn't remember what they were talking about last and he tries to think about what they've talked about throughout the evening, but nothing clicks about someone being right or wrong. "Pardon?" Kris asks. Fedor smirks this time and Kris thinks he's about to get told off, but Fedor moves in closer to Kris instead and whispers into his ear, "Do I have your heart?"

It's a big question that Kris wasn't expecting in a million years, but he supposes unless he wants to attempt Russian transit to get to the team-supplied hotel, he had better answer. "I see you look at me, Kris," Fedor adds, only backing away slightly. "I'm not blind and you are far from transparent, my friend."

Kris just gapes. He isn't sure if he's about to get his ass kicked or not, but he really hopes it happens soon because he can't deal with suspense. His response is a random assortment of "um" and "I-" and it's killing Kris to drag on like this, but he doesn't know what to do. "Oui," he spits out, finally. Fedor seems pleased with the reply and moves in and kisses Kris.

It's hard and demanding, but that's what Kris was looking for. Kris lets his hands explore Fedor's back as Fedor does the same. And then Kris is lifted to the counter and their height is more even now and wraps his arms around Fedor's neck, keeping them close.

It's only a matter of time before they're not so cautiously pulling at each other's clothes, and then Fedor's kissing and sucking down Kris' neck.

It feels amazing in a way Kris has never felt before. Not that he's never spontaneously hooked up with a guy before, but something about the way that Fedor just IS makes the difference. His charisma and emotion that he puts into it, even.

Kris isn't a huge guy, and he definitely smaller than Fedor, but he doesn't feel small. If anything, he feels more important.

"Couch or bed?" Fedor all but growls.

Kris wouldn't care if they fucked on the kitchen floor, to be honest, but his back would probably prefer the bed. "Bed," Kris answers.   
Fedor smiles again, for the millionth time that night and just scoops Kris off the counter, like it was nothing.

Kris wraps his legs around Fedor for balance as he's carried into Fedor's room and placed on the bed. "Be back, okay?" Fedor excuses himself.

Kris stares at the ceiling because, wow. He's actually going to do this. He's going to sleep with Fedor Fedorov. The thought settles in by the time Fedor gets back, stocked with the general provisions.

"Where were we?" He asks, tossing the lube and condoms on his table. Kris sits up as Fedor crawls onto the bed and hovers over him. They're not quite touching, but Kris can feel the energy between them and he can feel his dick twitch, which just reminds him that they're both fully dressed below the waist.

Kris goes straight to Fedor's belt and then unzips his pants. Fedor follows his lead by doing the same for Kris, but has an easier time with the angle being better. 

And then they're just in underwear and Kris takes a second or two to observe. Fedor is more defined than he would have guessed and he looks bigger, arched above him on the bed. Kind of like an animal trapping its prey.

"Everything okay?" Fedor asks. His tone is playful, but there's the essence of protection in there, like maybe he thinks Kris is having second throught.

"Perfect," Kris answers, wrapping his arms around Fedor again and pulling him down.

They're both hard, but neither makes a move towards anything more than kissing and touching. As if they know that Kris could leave at any moment, they just want to make it worthwhile.

They do know that. Kris is so painfully aware he almost wishes he never met Fedor. But then Fedor grinds into him as he's sucking Kris' neck, causing Kris to groan loudly.

Fedor starts biting playfully and when Kris joins in, it becomes a wrestling match with both men laughing in between playful grunts.

Kris manages to flip Fedor over, so he's now lying on the bed and Kris has all the leverage to pin him down.

Fedor wiggles his wrists and kicks his legs, pretending to struggle and Kris starts grinding into Fedor and nipping at his collar and doing everything he was imagining in the kitchen until he has Fedor whimpering.

Kris smiles in victory, but Fedor throws him off balance and pulls on-top of Kris. "Cheat," Kris whines.

"Never," Fedor growls, voice low and thick.

"Fuck me," Kris asks, voice almost a pant. Fedor grins, again, but this time his eyes are dark and focused.

Fedor peels off Kris' briefs and gives his cock a couple strokes before rolling him over. And then Fedor's hand is on Kris' back as he starts to work him open.

Kris had almost forgot what it felt like to be worked like that, so carefully. Or at all, really. He wasn't really the best at picking up guys, despite what everyone gives him shit for. Girls were all over him, but he wasn't that kind of guy, despite what his current situation might show. 

And then Fedor decides it's time to go forward, kissing Kris' hip as he pulls his fingers out and strokes Kris' thighs before he asks if he's ready. "Yes," Kris pants out. He doesn't know how long he'll last, it feels like they've been doing this for hours and it still doesn't seem like enough. 

Fedor bites his lip, holding a grunt as he finally pushes inside Kris. Kris isn't so silent, though. He groans and whines a bit as he adjusts to Fedor, but it doesn't take long before he's moving back and he can feel Fedor's laugh on the back of his neck. "Should have known, you power bottom," Fedor says. Kris doesn't know what to say, so he just pushes back again and it's enough to get the point across.

It doesn't take long for them to find a good rhythm and at first Kris thinks it's going to be over any second, but Fedor slows it down and it turns into something other than just fucking. When they're done, Kris' fully exhausted and Fedor kind of laughs again, but just lays beside him and pets his hair back. 

"You have nice hair," Fedor smirks, giving it a slight tug. Kris is far from able to make a coherent response to that, so he just shakes his head to move his hair from his face.

"Is this what Russia is like?" Kris asks.

"What I am like," Fedor answers.

"I think I like you better than Russia," Kris jokes. Fedor laughs and continues playing with Kris' hair.

"I used to have long, flow-y hair, you know?" Fedor asks. Kris makes an interested sound, but doesn't say words. "Lot more fluffy than yours, but I got same jokes as you."

"Jokes?" Kris asks.

"Great for pulling, sex hair, all that." Fedor answers. Kris knows those all too well, he nods. "Then again, is great for pulling," Fedor adds, giving a quick tug to Kris' hair once more.

Kris just smiles and he's too relaxed to be any kind of unimpressed.

"Kristopher, Kristopher," Fedor says softly. Kris almost purrs at the sound of his name. His last thought before falling asleep is how he could get used to being held like this.

\---------

When Kris wakes up, he can smell food being cooked and he quickly pulls on his pants and shirt. Before he makes it to the kitchen, he checks his phone to make sure it’s not dead. He has a bunch of missed alerts. He clicks into a text from Sid, guessing he'd be the least likely to sugar coat the end of the season or him being traded.

"Morning, Kristopher," Fedor smiles, placing two plates on the island.

"They cut a deal," Kris says. He feels like he's just been kicked in the chest. Fedor is at his side and hugs him. It doesn't feel right. He just got there, the NHL season was supposed to be cancelled.

"When do you have to go back?"

"They want me back as soon as possible."

Fedor sighs, but then he pats Kris on the back. "Let's not waste time on being sad."

Kris wants to tell Fedor he is sad, but there's good food and a warm body he can be next to, so why sulk?

Once again, the food is amazing and it only makes Kris feel worse about leaving. "Fuck Pittsburgh."

Fedor laughs and shakes his head. "What would Crosby say if he heard that?"

"Sid doesn't know what your food is like," Kris points out. There are a number of things Sid doesn't know about Fedor. Things that Kris wishes he could hang onto and never let anyone know about.

"You can't be so upset over food. We can email recipes, yes?" Fedor jokes.

"Did you want to keep in contact?" Kris asks.

Fedor smiles and kicks Kris' foot under the table. "Of course."

Kris kicks back with a smile as well. "You'll reply to my texts?"

"Just don't expect same minute - time difference and all," Fedor jokes. 

Joking aside, Kris feels a lot better knowing Fedor wants to keep in contact. It means that, small fling or not, they're still friends. 

\---------

Two days later, he's in Pittsburgh sitting with Sid, who he can tell wants to say something. "What?" Kris asks.  

"How was Russia?" Sid asks.

"You mean my four days in Russia? They were fine," Kris laughs. 

"Bad timing, eh?" Sid implies.

Kris has to think about that for a minute. "Not really," he answers. "Just right, actually."

Sid gives him a weird look, but goes back to his sandwich and into his own world and leaving Kris to his thoughts. 

 


End file.
